


The Effing Stage

by icedteainthebag



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: Well, there's some of that in here.





	The Effing Stage

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to somekindofseizure for inspiring this junket in a number of ways.

The last three weeks had been the greatest time of his life. 

Not that Mulder had much to compare it to.

They’d started sleeping together after she came back from “vacation” in Maine, the one where she almost became the victim of a demonic doll, all without him. She’d taken one look at the pencils in his ceiling and knew he was completely worthless without her. And something about that, he reasoned, had turned her on so much that he’d invited her to dinner at her place that night to “catch up.”

Catching up turned into making love, sleeping together, and quickly morphed into his favorite stage of any budding relationship: the fucking stage.

Just a few weeks in and they didn’t need to eat, barely needed to sleep. All they wanted to do was fuck, and on the weekends, that’s all they did. This Friday night was no different, after a day in the office that culminated in her sitting on his desk way past ten, pulling him closely between her legs and making out with him like colonization was coming tomorrow. Knowing they couldn’t go much further there--they had jobs to keep and bills to pay, for fuck’s sake--he followed her home like a pussywhipped dog. 

After Mulder demonstrated to Scully the full extent of magical carnal possibilities at the witching hour, they finally took a rest. They’d fallen asleep naked and spooned up, which was comfortable for about an hour until they both got too hot and assumed more familiar positions on the beds--alone. Mulder enjoyed considering himself a clumsy romantic, one who tried his best but often didn’t hit the mark. An hour of his half-boner pressed against Scully’s bare back, skin stuck together, with the both of them sweating and trying to ignore their discomfort was enough to make him swear off romance for at least a few hours.

In ways they still functioned better alone, even now.

Well, not now. Not with the dull grey of sunrise filtering through the windows, not with the hard-on he just produced by sliding the bed sheet down so the side of her breast was exposed as she slept hard on her stomach. He couldn’t even see her face. 

That was temporarily ok.

Mulder wiggled himself against her body and ran his hand down her spine. She stirred, one eye opening under a fan of red hair, and gave him a sleepy half-smile. His hand slid under the sheet, fingers flitting against her concave lower back.

“Morning,” she murmured from behind her hair curtain. “You’re an early riser.”

“Well... ”

She laughed at that. As if he needed to get harder. But that was just a distraction. He had to remain intent on his morning mission.

“You were such a bad girl last night.”

“Oh, I was?” She tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her amusement.

“Hmm.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, that spot.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Well…” His hand pressed lower, over the crack of her ass, and settled there as he pretended to be coming up with an idea he’d actually invented years ago, one night while furiously jacking off to this or that. He wondered if his hand there made her pulse like it did him, with arousal, on a heartbeat. “I was thinking of getting my cuffs…”

“Oh, no,” she breathed, arching an eyebrow. “Please don’t. I haven’t been that bad, have I?”

He hummed, stroking the cleft with one finger. Her eyes widened. “I think you have. Do you even remember last night?”

“How could I not.” She stretched out her body, toes pointing to the foot of the bed where he took her from behind not five hours before. “You’re the one who did it. I’m just the one who asked.”

“Now that...” He pushed his hand down between her thighs, finding her heat from behind. “...sounds like a criminal conspiracy.”

Her head lifted from the pillow with a soft gasp. “Guilty as charged. Lock me up.” Her voice was a notch above a purr.

He had to resist giggling with rightfully earned glee. He wasn’t sure if she’d find it endearing or unappealing. As he walked over to the disastrous pile of clothes he’d left in the middle of her bedroom floor last night he heard her shift and could feel her watching his slightly aching ass in all its bare-assed glory. Equal parts arousing and anxiety inducing. This was a notable mix of emotions she was inspiring within him.

He pulled his handcuffs from their belt case and no, this was the more intimidating walk, the one where he approached her head-on, with his dick out and growing and cuffs precariously teetering upon his pointer finger. She had a hint of a smile but her look was studious, like he and his actions were under the scrutiny of an expert. He felt like covering his junk with his free hand for a meager bit of protection.

He sat on the bedside next to her and she wound her tiny wrists around the middle slat of the headboard like she’d done this a million times. Had she? God, not now. Her lower lip was taken hostage by her teeth and he could hear her breath as he reached over to cuff each wrist, attaching her to the frame. He looked down at her and the expression of scrutiny had softened to one of unrestrained anticipation.

Now here was something he hadn’t ever expected to happen, he thought as he lightly ran his fingers down her side, and back up to her breast where expectation, and now the circling of touch, had turned her areola into a hardened peak that he leaned over to take into his mouth. His hand slid to her hip and clutched it possessively as he worked the rippled skin with his tongue. A light tease with his teeth and then on to the other, sucking and licking until the tiny tip of her nipple was so hard it had to be painful.

“You tease,” she said, even as her chest rose to him.

“Hey… incarceration isn’t supposed to be comfortable.” He kissed her ribcage, the hand on her hip sliding down her thigh a few inches. He could smell both of them on her stomach and it was a wild combination of sweat and sex. The salt of her belly button awakened his tongue to the fact that there was a lot more to taste. 

He rose from the bed and felt more empowered, less sheepish as he took a grand view of her body chained to her Pottery Barn bed. He resisted tickling her exposed armpits while she was unable to defend herself, kept himself from trying to irritate her into ecstasy with his sharp wit. There were times for that and this didn’t feel like the time.

At the foot of the bed he slithered onto the mattress, taking care with his now notably aroused dick as he lay upon his stomach. She had her knees together, legs bent to the side, and he pulled them apart even as she gave him a little teasing resistance. 

There it was. 

There it fucking was.

“Are you going to stare at it all day?” 

He laughed, feeling a blush. “You’re in no position to give me hell.”

He slid his hands under her ass and took a long lap at her slit, the outer lips tinged with the rich taste of their leftover come from earlier. He worked over the skin with the flat of his tongue, turning it hot, making her bloom. She shifted in his hands and moaned softly. Soon he tasted it--the new arousal he was inspiring within her, more tart, and he couldn’t help but dip his tongue further in. Her hips writhed and he felt wistful for the feeling of her fists gripping his hair. She began to make her little sounds, the ones he’d worked long days and nights and traveled to either side of the continent for--to other continents for. 

Throughout the past weeks he’d been able to try many of the things he’d fantasized about on these long days and nights, and a thought now burned like an ember in his sex-addled brain. He had to see.

When he pushed his tongue inside her, the noise she made confirmed his daydream suspicions.

Tongue fucking was an art for him--having been endowed with a lengthy tongue, he could reach in, curl up, lick the rim of her pussy entrance a few inches in, where he’d read they were the most sensitive anyway. It seemed to be working, from the reaction of her entire body from mouth to toe. He whirled in deep circles while she tried to move her body in a rhythm, her pussy pressed firmly against his face. He breathed her in, thrust his tongue like it was his cock, matching the movement of her hips as his teeth grazed against her labia. Careful, careful. But she was no delicate flower.

“Fuck,” she cried out, her tone slightly anguished. He heard the cuffs grate against the headboard and looked up over her twisted body. The circle motion of her hips was broad as she tried to bear down on him despite being caught on the headboard. And her tits, her glorious tits were trembling with her every movement. He would get back to them later.

A few more fucks of his tongue and he slid it out, upward onto her patiently waiting clit, which he lapped with a fury that he really should have reserved for later but who the fuck can be patient at a time like this? He pressed her hips down into the bed, holding her as still as he could to agonize her even more. With every stroke she twitched and gave a little cry, her feet dragging against the mussed sheets until they fell smack against his shoulder blades, her legs winding around his shoulders. One of his palms left her hip and he groaned into her body with anticipation. His fingertip caressed the outside of her opening, pulling a string of “yes”es from her lips. 

“Come on, Mulder.” It was a plea.

She was so tight around his solitary finger as he smoothly pushed it inside of her, capturing her clit with his lips and sucking, giving his tongue a break as his hand began its work. Slow fucking, two knuckles deep, finger pressed upward and massaging what he’d been told was a woman’s g-spot but he had really experienced no solid evidence to attest to its existence. But, as she moaned and quivered around him, he realized that it wasn’t a button you pressed for immediate results. No, he slid his finger with solid pressure against her upper wall and she let out a low sound that encouraged him to continue while he suckled her clit, watching her writhe in pleasured agony. He looked up and watched what her hands were doing--with not much allowance for movement, her fingers were wrapped around the slat of the headboard and clutching it firmly, her knuckles now white. He thought about those slim fingers wrapped around his dick and nearly lost his mind.

He had a thought. It was a devious thought, a bold move that could pay off quite nicely if his suspicions were right. He pulled away from her and despite her legs clutching at him and her soft “no, no,” he slipped off the bed and made his way to the side.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her hips beckoning him back.

He hooked his finger into the drawer pull of the bedside table and tugged it open, glancing down. Was he right? 

Of course he was.

“Hmmm. Always in the top drawer,” he said, picking up the vibrator and examining it. She laughed a nervous laugh, blushed and smiled at the same time. It was smaller than him and made of the smoothest silicone he’d ever felt. It had slight ridges and when he twisted the base, he realized it had quite a bit more power than he’d imagined her needing.

And this was pleasing to him.

She wordlessly spread her legs wider, an invitation he would respond to, s’il vous plait. 

“Oh, you want this, don’t you?” he murmured. 

She smiled, closing her eyes.

He sat down beside her. His stomach flipped with excitement as her hands squeezed the headboard slat even more tightly. He could see small pink circles around her wrists from the cuffs. And they’d barely even started.

He ran the tip of the buzzing vibe down her pussy lips and she moaned, her head tilting back slowly. Jesus Fucking Christ.

“Have you ever thought of me?” He nudged the toy deeper, teasing her. She was slick from his mouth and her own body. “While you used this?”

Her eyes remained closed, her toes curled into the sheets. “All the time.”

The powerful sound of the vibrator muffled as he began to slide it inside her. He put his free hand on his dick, unable to avoid it any longer, and gave it the lengthy stroke it deserved. God damn. He clutched at the head, his thumb caressing the sticky precome into the delicate skin.

“Oh, Mulder, yes,” she moaned, her hips shifting against his hand. He clutched the end of the vibe, now settled completely within her, and could feel her muscles tighten around it. He tightened his hand around his own dick, squeezing in the same pattern.

The vibe didn’t have a clit stimulator--most of them he’d seen had some sort of bunny or beaver or projectile to take on this task. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her swollen clit, making up for it, and pulled the vibe almost all the way out before returning it firmly to its place. Her hips lifted from the bed with her gasp.

“I’m so wet,” she whispered.

“I know.” The vibe slid in and out. He stroked himself in time with it, his voice catching as pleasure radiated down his spine. “I tasted it. I felt it. I can smell it. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Her eyes opened and she realized he was masturbating alongside her. “Jesus.” Her voice was soft. He felt his whole body shake as her gaze rested on his busy hand. “What I wouldn't give to touch you right now.”

“Not yet.” No matter how much his body begged to differ. He took slow and even breaths as he felt his balls begin to tingle at the mere idea.

He leisurely fucked her with the vibe as her moans continued and her patience wore thin, a sheen of sweat appearing on her body as she struggled against the cuffs and tried to move her hips faster. 

“I want you in me,” she said. It sounded nearly like an admonishment. He ran his tongue over his upper lip, tasting her.

“Not until you come,” he said. “Then you can have me however you want.”

“However I want?”

He felt his cock harden to an exciting new level. “Yeah, Scully. However.”

“Well…” She faltered, enduring a few more strokes of the vibe. “Then suck my clit again.”

Her entire chest flushed pink when she said it, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen yet that morning.

“Bossy.” He leaned over and spread her pussy lips with two fingers. She made a sound like she was nearly about to cry.

“I am,” she managed as his mouth covered her heat, taking her request very seriously. He knew how to suck and suck hard, treating this sensitive bit like one of his sunflower seeds that just wouldn't crack open. He hadn't removed her toy--not yet--and angling it upward so he could feel the vibrations against his mouth through her pelvic bone set him completely on fire. Her legs trembled and her sounds became more urgent, begging him without words not to stop. He heard the chain of the cuffs sliding and banging against the wooden slat as her body went rigid and a sensuous sound escaped her mouth. He would never tire of that sound. It was ethereal, that and the soft settling sounds afterward as she came down from her high.

“God damn it, uncuff me.” She was barely audible. But she was serious, quite serious. He could tell by her tone. 

He didn't take his time with the removal of her cuffs, but his touch lingered on the angry red marks they left behind on her delicate wrists. She sat up and grabbed the back of his head, kissing him hard while dragging him down onto the mattress.

“Get on your back.” She was all business now. He knew better than to argue, flipping onto his back, not quickly enough apparently. She shoved his shoulders flat down on the pillow, her hair in her eyes. She was straddling him, wet against his chest and his belly as she moved downward. No time was wasted as she rose on her knees above him and grabbed his dick, drawing a noise from him that was half surprise and half relief. He was ready, so fucking ready.

This was the most beautiful sight--in a weekend full of beautiful sights--her sliding down on top of him and groaning through gritted teeth because she probably took it in too quickly. Fuck, she was wet and hot and he was thick and so fucking needy. He wanted it all--he grabbed her tits and pinched her nipples hard enough to make her squeak and look down at him like he'd just maligned Einstein. Then, with a gleam in her eye, she placed her palms flat upon his abdomen and began to ride his dick like her life depended on it. 

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you like this,” she said, her hips working in quick tandem with his. With every downstroke she got looser and wetter around him. The sound of it was obscene and it almost made him come. Of course, that’s what she wanted--taking back the power he'd just lorded over her, the power he really didn't have.

“Fuck me then.” He grabbed her ass, holding her down and grinding up into her. She nearly yelped and grabbed his wrists in return, pushing them down against the bed and continuing her ride.

“You gonna come in me, Mulder?” She drove herself down upon him with dizzying force. “Tell me you want to come in me.”

Her breasts and her mouth and her pussy and everything. “Fuck yes, I wanna come in you.”

“Maybe I'll let you,” she panted, leaning back, changing the delicious angle of her hips as her vaginal muscles clung to him like magnets to steel.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He could only speak in single words as he felt himself starting to come. She tossed her head back, groaning as she ground her pelvis against his. Her ass flat on his balls, his trapped wrists balled the sheets into fists and he thrust into her so hard she almost fell off of him. This electric shock to his system, followed by the warmth of his come in her, sopping wet now, didn’t linger long enough as she laughed softly and rested a hand upon his upper thigh.

“What a mess you are.” Her fingernails grazed through his leg hair, scratching his skin.

“I am.” He was also still recovering. “I really am.”

“Did you like that?” 

“Yeah.” Oh, that didn’t sound nearly as enthusiastic as he meant it to be. She pulled herself off of him and backed down between his legs on her knees. 

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” She leaned over, her mouth an inch from the head of his cock. Her eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Uh, no. Yes. I don’t know what the right answer is, Scully, I just--”

She took him in her mouth and he lost his words. Giving him short, quick sucks, her tongue swirled around him and when she made a sound like he was the tastiest thing she’d put in there in her adult life, his whole body shuddered. She made it again, still keeping his gaze. “So good,” she broke off to say, running her tongue up the bottom of his shaft. “You and me.”

“Holy shit,” he whispered as her tongue plucked at the ridge of the head of his dick, her mouth wide open as she made a show of tonguing him. She slid him into her wet mouth again, as far as she could go, which was a respectable length he didn’t feel like theorizing about right at the moment because she had turned his softening dick into a raging fucking issue that needed to be resolved. 

She worked him quickly, a challenge to see if he could really come again so quickly, one he was sure he was about to win. It didn’t help that her skillful hand was cupping his balls and caressing them indulgently, like they were made of goddamn gold. He didn’t know what to do with his hands--this was Scully, this wasn’t a porno, he didn’t want to send himself down her throat. But it was when she started making little whimpering noises with each suck that he couldn’t take any more. Could any man? He put a hand on the back of her head and felt his orgasm hit at nearly the same time. 

He felt her swallow. He closed his eyes and let loose a breath he’d been holding for the past five minutes. And then he felt her crawling over him, settling onto his chest with a contented sigh.

“You need to get us breakfast.” Her words were warm against his cooling chest.

“I already ate.” 

She slapped his arm. He kind of liked it and made a mental note for later. “Are you going to make breakfast?”

He laughed. “You don’t want that.”

She looked up at him. “Then go get it.”

The clumsy romantic in him would try his best.


End file.
